Engraved Promises
by VegasGoddess
Summary: GSR With Grissom injured and in the hospital, can he and Sara come to an understanding?


**Title:** Engraved Promises

 **Summary:** With Grissom injured and in the hospital, can he and Sara come to an understanding?

 **Spoilers:** Do we really need spoiler disclaimers now? There's not really anything here, more just mentions of Cool Change, Sex, Lies, and Larvae, Butterflied... and I think that's it.

 **Disclaimer:** Ah the show is over now, but I still own nothing. Thanks for a good fifteen years though, TPTB.

 **Author's Note:** Truly not my best work, but it's apparently been sitting finished since 2007, unpublished. So why not post it. It takes place at some point after Butterflied, there's really no solid timeline here. Hopefully it's not the worst thing ever, so try to read and enjoy!

* * *

 _The blue and red lights of the cop cars and ambulances flashed like strobe lights as a tall brunette ran towards the townhouse. She ran past her coworkers; Nick and Greg reaching out for her, but she stayed away, far from their outstretched hands._

 _She ran into the townhouse; into the living room. He was lying on the floor, his body still, with a growing pool of blood around his head. Catherine was kneeling down on the floor beside him._

" _Catherine… is he…?" the brunette asked, coming up beside her acting supervisor._

 _Catherine looked up, tears running down her face. "He's… gone."_

 _The standing woman's eyes filled with tears. Grissom, her Grissom, was gone. She screamed. She screamed and screamed until her voice gave out._

 **OoOoOoOoO**

Sara Sidle sat up in bed, drenched with a mixture of her own tears and the cold sweat seemingly pouring out of every inch of her skin. Her mind was racing with the images from her nightmare. Grissom. Grissom's blood. Grissom dead. _No,_ a voice in her head scolded. _Don't think about it. Go back to sleep._ She looked at the clock and sighed. It read six pm. She would usually be getting up in half an hour anyway, to get ready to go to work at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. But tonight was her night off. Working on the graveyard shift had messed with her sleep cycle at first, but she had quickly gotten over it. Pulling herself out of bed, she stumbled to the shower.

When she stepped out of the shower and into a fresh set of clothes, nightmare images came back to her. They weren't anything new; she'd been having them for years. Ever since the Kaye Shelton case; one of her first in Vegas. She had stayed up all night with that dead pig, with Grissom… Grissom. Her heart lurched at the thought of him dead. Her brain insisted on providing visuals, and she desperately pushed them away.

Gil Grissom was Sara's supervisor at the Crime Lab, and they had been friends, when she'd arrived in Vegas. But as of late, they weren't anything. Not friends, not acquaintances, not lovers, not even comfortable coworkers. They were just two people, alone and miserable. It hurt her deeply that their relationship, whatever it was, had disappeared, but they had both contributed.

When his face filled her mind again, she tried frantically to push it out, not wanting to relive the nightmare. But by pushing his face out, her mind only replaced it with the faces of other victims, her friends and coworkers. Her phone rang, jarring Sara away from her thoughts. "Sidle," she answered.

"Sara!" It was Jim Brass, head of the Homicide department at the LVPD. He sounded terrible as he relayed his information. "It's Grissom. He's been hurt. Come to his townhouse now!" A thought occurred to him. "You know where it is, right?"

"Yes," she answered slowly.

"Good. Hurry up, we need everyone." Brass hung up before she could ask what was going on.

Sara was confused. Grissom? Hurt? Brass had to be wrong. No one ever went to Grissom's house; she'd only been there once, on the Strip Strangler case. Picking up her car keys and bag, she headed for the door.

When she arrived at Grissom's townhouse, there were police everywhere. Brass had been sent to secure the building's perimeter, so it was Conrad Ecklie, the Assistant Lab Director who met Sara at the base of the lawn.

The lights of the police cars and ambulances flashed angrily. Sara felt something in the pit of her stomach. Fear. Maybe there really was something wrong with Grissom.

As she walked towards the scene, Ecklie approached her. "Sara -"

"Where is he? Where is Grissom?" She fired question after question at him.

"He's in his home. You _cannot_ go in there. Catherine is already in there, and she will remain the only person until he has been taken to the hospital. Do you understand?" Ecklie explained. Realizing that he was speaking to thin air, he swore angrily. "Damnit, Sidle! Get back here!" But she was already gone.

After hearing that Catherine was with Grissom, Sara was gone. There was no way that Catherine would see him and she wouldn't. Catherine didn't love Grissom. Sara did. She almost stopped running. She'd just admitted to herself again that she loved Grissom. She had to stop doing that; he'd told her no more than once, and every time her heart admitted to loving him, it caused her whole body to ache, knowing that he didn't feel the same. But she couldn't help it… he was Grissom.

She was almost at the front door when a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind. They belonged to Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown. They were standing behind the yellow crime scene tape with Dr. Al Robbins and Greg Sanders. "Sara," Dr. Robbins said gently, stepping forward. "You can't go in there. You'll contaminate any evidence. Catherine will take care of him."

Sara was crying now, desperate to see Grissom. She fought against Nick, who was holding her tightly. "No. No, I have to go see him! Let me go!" She struggled against Nick's arms as strongly as she could, and his grip loosened. She pushed through them and ran up the front steps to the townhouse.

The door crashed open, and Sara ran in, almost scaring Catherine half to death. "Sara!" she exclaimed loudly. "What the hell are you doing in here? Ecklie said no one was allowed… Sara?"

Sara had stopped cold. Grissom was lying on the floor, unmoving. A pool of blood was growing around his head and neck. _Just like in my dream,_ she thought. _Except for…_ "Catherine? Is he… dead?"

The blonde woman blinked and looked from Sara to Grissom. "No, Sara, he's not dead. He's been stabbed once in the neck and back, and he's unconscious. Maybe a broken arm, as well. He's being taken to Desert Palms… here are the paramedics now." She stood up to let the paramedics put Grissom onto a stretcher, but Sara stood rooted to the spot, unmoving. Grabbing her arm, Catherine led Sara to the far end of the living room. "Sara, you have to go home, before Ecklie fires you."

Sara started to argue, but Catherine talked over her. "Look, Sara, none of us at the Crime Lab should work this case; we all have some sort of relationship with Grissom. But someone has to, and the graveyard shift will. I will feel much better that we're working it instead of swing or day. Won't you?"

Sara started to point out that she too worked on the graveyard shift, but Catherine raised a hand for her to stop. "I know that you work graveyard, Sara, I'm not stupid. The rest of us will work on it. You will get too emotionally involved; he's someone you care about." Sara's face grew hard, but Catherine continued. "You're too emotionally involved in Grissom. Go home. We'll figure out what happened. I promise."

Sara regained use of both her legs and mouth. "Catherine, I appreciate your concern, but I will work this case. And I _am not_ emotionally involved in Grissom." She turned to walk outside.

Catherine set her mouth in a line. "Sara. As your acting supervisor, I am giving you personal time off. Two weeks. Don't come to the lab, because it will not end well. Nick, Warrick, Greg, Brass and I will do this. Go home." She looked up at the sound of ambulance sirens wailing urgently.

Both women ran outside to see paramedics rushing to the ambulance Grissom was in. Sara, the younger of the two, reached the vehicle first. "What's going on?" she shouted, attempting to be louder than the overhead siren.

One of the paramedics looked up. "We need to get him to the hospital, now. There seems to be a problem. He's begun bleeding again." He went to slam the door closed, but Sara caught it. "Miss? We need to go."

Sara nodded. "I know. I'm going with you."

Catherine looked from the paramedic to Sara. "Sara… I don't think -"

"I'm going," Sara said, climbing into the ambulance. "Cath, I'll see you at the hospital later."

After closing the door on Catherine's pissed off face and turning around in the small ambulance, Sara almost screamed. Grissom was lying on the stretcher, wires and tubes all over him. Paramedics hovered, working on him if necessary. "Can I touch him?" she whispered to the nearest one.

"Of course, but I wouldn't recommend it. The Crime Lab is going to need his clothes. Trace analysis or something," he replied.

Sara mentally smacked herself. _Of course we're going to need his clothes. It's an ongoing investigation…_ She nodded to the man, and pulled her outstretched hand back. She sat down on the small wall-bench, and listened to the sirens blare. Someone had explained to her once that the faster and louder sirens were, it was just that more urgent that they get to the hospital. She felt the knot in her stomach tighten. "Will he be okay?" she asked quietly.

"I really don't know," the paramedic told her, in an apologetic tone. "But I think he's going to need surgery to fix those wounds. They're quite deep."

Sara nodded again, and closed her eyes.

 **OoOoOoOoO**

Sooner than it seemed, they had arrived at Desert Palms Hospital. Grissom was immediately rolled into the ER, ad Sara was ushered into the waiting room. Forty-five minutes later, a nurse came out looking for Sara. "Sara Sidle?" she called, looking around.

Sara stood up on wobbly legs. "Over here," she said, waving to the woman.

She walked briskly over; clipboard in hand. "You're Sara Sidle?"

"Yes."

"And you're here for a Mr. Gil Grissom?"

"Yes."

"And what would your relationship with Mr. Grissom be?" she asked, sitting down in the chair next to the one Sara had just vacated. Sara sat back down in her own chair, regarding the nurse with a suspicious stare. _Why all the questions,_ she if reading her mind, the nurse extended her hand to Sara. "Shannon Sleut," she said, shaking with Sara. "These questions are standard procedure, Miss Sidle. We need to make sure that we aren't giving our patients personal information to strangers."

Sara nodded in understanding. "Good point."

"So, your relationship with Mr. Grissom? Platonic? Work-related? Romantic? Sexual?"

She bit back her initial retort to the nurse. There was no way that she could _ever_ understand the relationship that she and Grissom had. But her last two suggestions made Sara's heart ache. If it had been up to her, then they _would_ have been the correct answers. But Grissom had told her no point blank, making it clear that he did not want to be with her. And then he'd spilled his heart to a cold-hearted killer; Dr. Lurie, implying the he _did_ care about her, just not enough, and that his job was more important. _That_ tidbit of information – which Sara was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to hear – had shattered her heart more than she thought anything could. But for some reason unknown to her, it didn't do anything to disperse her feelings for him. If anything, they grew stronger, desperately looking for a way to become the more important thing.

Coming back to the present, she found the nurse staring at her. "Miss Sidle?" she prompted.

Sara leaned back on the uncomfortable hospital chair. "My relationship with Grissom would have to be… work-related, I suppose. We are – _were_ friends, but… we've been having a rough time lately. So yeah, work-related would probably be your best bet." That wasn't entirely true, but it was the best answer she could offer. She going to go into deeper details.

The nurse gave Sara a smile that she was pretty sure to be taken for sympathy. "A rough time, huh? Sounds like a hard time in a romantic relationship."

Sara scoffed. "Yeah right," she muttered darkly. "No," she said in her normal voice. "Grissom and I don't have a romantic or sexual relationship. He's my boss."

Shannon looked a bit taken aback, but quickly recovered. "Your boss, huh? Where do you work?"

"The LVPD," Sara answered.

"Care to be more specific?" Shannon asked, writing on her clipboard.

"The Crime Lab. We're Crime Scene Investigators," Sara said, getting annoyed.

"Okay then." She wrote some more on her clipboard, and then looked back at Sara. "Where is Mr. Grissom's family? I mean, why are you here, you know, without them?"

She sighed. Family was always a touchy subject with her. Grissom was _her_ family, whether he knew it or not. What his thoughts on that idea were unknown to her. Lately, she had no idea what any of his thoughts were. On anything except the occasional case they worked together.

"His family is in San Francisco. Along with mine," she finally said. Sara wasn't sure why she was revealing any of herself to the nurse, but she carried on. "We came to Vegas to work with the Crime Lab. Our family is each other, I guess." Hoping against hope that the nurse wouldn't notice her lack of answer to the last question, Sara stopped talking and ran a hand through her hair.

Moving forward and apparently not noticing, Shannon stood up with a nod. "Thank you, Miss Sidle. I'll be back shortly with Mr. Grissom's doctor and more information."

Sara acknowledged her with a nod of her own, before being interrupted by a ringing at her side. Picking up, she answered, "Sidle."

Catherine's voice came through Sara's phone. "Sara? How's Grissom? Is he okay?" Her voice sounded almost frantic.

"Catherine, I don't know how he is. I haven't seen him since we arrived." Sara checked her watch. "Which was about… an hour ago. I was pushed into the waiting room; he into the ER. The only person I've talked to was a nurse who gave me my own interrogation. And -"

Shannon had returned, a doctor hot on her heels. "Cath, I'm going to have to call you back." She hung up abruptly, knowing Catherine would kill her later.

The doctor slid into the chair next to her, the one the nurse had been in only minutes before. "Miss Sidle, I presume?" he asked in a deep but pleasant voice. He extended his hand, waiting for her to take it.

"Yes," Sara answered, grasping the man's hand with her own. "Sara Sidle, Crime Lab. Here for Grissom…?"

"Sara Sidle," the doctor said, a grin growing. "I'm Jake Drubowski, Gil Grissom's doctor. He's just been wheeled into surgery; his neck wound didn't cause any long-term damage, neither did the back. But we think it might have caused some things to shift, and we want them back in the right place."

"His wrist is sprained, not badly, but enough to be in a tensor bandage for a few days. He also lost a lot of blood, and we'll bring it up as high as we can, nature will have to go from there."

Sara cringed. She didn't like hospitals, or doctors. "Do you know how long the surgery will take?" she asked in an unnaturally high voice.

"A couple of hours, at most," Dr. Drubowski answered.

She nodded. "Okay, thank you." The doctor stood, and, accompanied by Shannon, made his way back through the swinging double doors from which he had emerged.

Staring after them, Sara realized she should call Catherine back. Picking up her phone, she punched in the number.

"Why did you hang up on me?" Catherine demanded.

"Hello to you too, Cath. I hung up because Grissom's doctor came and needed to talk to me. Couldn't talk to you and him at the same time, now could I?"

"I suppose not," she said, sounding sheepish. "Sorry. How is he?" she asked again, straining to keep her voice calm.

"Surgery, now," Sara said flatly. "Doctor says that he's lost a lot of blood." She could now feel her voice filling with tears and fear; hating herself for it. "Catherine," she asked in a small voice, very unlike her own, "is he going to be okay?"

The senior CSI could also hear Sara's emotions breaking through her tough exterior. "Sara… I don't know. Nicky and Greg are on their way, Warrick and I will be there as soon as we can. I promise. We won't leave you or Gil alone."

Sara was surprised to learn that the entire graveyard shift was coming. "But what about the case?"

"Ecklie's kicking us out. We were all at work when it was called in; except for you, and… evidently Gil. So, by working our shift, and now trying to figure out what the hell happened, we've all pulled doubles. And even though it was a unanimous vote to keep working, even if it meant a triple, Ecklie's said that it's _not_ happening." Catherine let out an irritated breath. "And Sara, _don't_ call him, he's already pissed. I've annoyed the crap out of him; he's pissed about Gil being hurt, and you being there, at the hospital. But…" she trailed off in thought. "He doesn't like the relationship you two have anyway. So I guess it doesn't really matter."

She sighed heavily; Sara heard muffled voices on Catherine's end. "Sara, I've got to go. Brass has something. But Warrick and I will be by as soon as possible, with anyone else who wants to show support for the boss. We'll see you soon." Sara told her thanks, and hung up, feeling numb.

Twenty minutes later, Nick and Greg showed up. Sara was so exhausted for reasons she couldn't explain, and couldn't get up to greet her friends. Instead, she just let Nick pull her into his arms, finally finding some solace. Breaking down, she cried into his chest, letting the tears fall freely. Greg held her hands and stroked her hair, providing his own version of solace for his scared friend. How long they sat there, nobody really knew.

 **OoOoOoOoO**

When Sara woke up – still feeling incredibly tired and numb – Catherine and Warrick were with them in the waiting room, clinging to each other. She was still encased in Nick's warm embrace, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Sara," Greg said gently, noticing that she was awake. "You're up. You fell asleep almost as soon as we got here. How are you feeling?"

She sat up straight, letting Nick's arms fall off her shoulders and ignoring Greg's concern of her. "Where's Grissom? Is he okay?"

As if on cue, Dr. Drubowski and Shannon emerged from the swinging doors leading to the operating room. "Miss Sidle?" he called.

Seeing him, she waved him over to the group. "Over here, among the people," she said dryly.

"Who are all of you?" he asked, casting a suspicious eye on the group of law enforcement personnel.

Not wanting to waste time with introductions, Sara rattled off her coworkers names, taking great confidence that they would all acknowledge themselves when called. "Catherine Willows, Warrick Brown, Nick Stokes, and Greg Sanders," she introduced quickly. "Where's Grissom? Can we see him?"

"Mr. Grissom passed through surgery well. His blood is still low, but it will fix itself naturally. He's in room 209, on the second floor. Right now may not be a good time to visit him, he's sleeping, and - " Whatever the doctor meant to say was cut off by the rush of air caused by the brunette and blond rushing past him; each woman's heart longing to see their injured friend, but for different reasons.

Warrick, Nick, and Greg all thanked the doctor for his help before taking the stairs to the second floor. Upon finding Grissom's room, the men were met with two very agitated women. "They're bringing in another patient," Catherine said through gritted teeth, pointing to nurses helping a younger man into a bed on the other end of the room. "Now? When we want to see Grissom!?"

Warrick saw that she was quite close to an explosion of her own temper, and pulled her into him. "Catherine, it'll only be a minute. Don't worry," he whispered into her hair.

Motioning to Nick, he said, "You and Greg watch Sara, okay? I know that Sara and Griss haven't been on the best of terms lately, but she still cares about him – a lot. Just keep her together, because with him like this, I don't know how badly she'll react. Just, take care of her, okay? I've got Cath."

Nick nodded and stepped back to Greg and let him know. Greg nodded in return, and moved to stand behind the brunette. "Sara?" Greg asked quietly. "We'll go in soon. We just have to wait for the new patient to be settled in, okay?" She only grunted in recognition. Greg smiled at her, trying to lighten her mood, but she kept her face blank, leaving Greg looking like a smiling doofus.

The nurses left the room, leaving it open to visitors. Sara and Catherine rushed in, closely followed by Nick, Warrick, and Greg. Grissom's hospital room was white, with two beds, one hidden by the pull-curtain; the other patient. He was tucked into a white bed; the covers pulled up around him, and was sound asleep.

 _He looks so peaceful,_ Sara thought, looking at him rest. _It takes away all the lines in his face, and he looks so much younger… and so adorable…_ Sara and Catherine took the two chairs on either side of his bed; tears running down each face. Tears of joy for Catherine; tears of anguish and fear for Sara, who had almost lost the only man she could ever love with this much conviction. Catherine was clutching his left hand; the sprained one. Sara was on his right side, but had refrained herself from touching him. She was afraid that if she did, she would never want to let him go.

Her friends could see her struggling to maintain self control, and Warrick personally thought that physical contact would probably ease her spinning mind and Grissom's. Leaning over her, he whispered, "It's okay to touch him, you know. We all know how you feel anyway." But Sara only shook her head. She seemed to have lost the ability to form words, or speak.

Catherine's phone rang, disturbing the silence that had settled over the room. "Willows," she answered.

The homicide detective sounded tired. "Catherine. We've got him."

She let go of Grissom's hand and slipped out into the hallway. "And?"

"His name is Jacob Somer. We got prints off of Gil's front door and a knife sitting in his sink. It had been cleaned, the blade, but not the handle."

Brass sighed. "He just confessed to me, with Ecklie. I hate doing interrogation with him…"

"Jim!" Catherine exclaimed.

"Right, sorry. So he confessed to us, as soon as we brought him in. Says he didn't know Gil worked for the LVPD, but was damn proud of stabbing a cop. Stupid son of a bitch. But Catherine…" his voice trailed off, but came back strong. "There's something else. Something you need to know. Somer wasn't going after Grissom. He was going after _Sara._ "

Catherine felt her jaw drop and swore severely, causing some of the nurses in the hall to throw her looks.

" _Sara?_ " she repeated, incredulous.

"Sara," Brass confirmed, his voice grave.

"But – why – who the _hell –_ " Catherine spluttered, unable to come up with coherent sentences.

Brass took a deep breath before explaining the bizarre situation to Catherine. "Well, his story is this: he'd seen Gil and Sara together, although I don't know where, if he says that he didn't know that Grissom was a cop… but anyway, he saw them, and, like everyone else, though that they were together, as in like dating or something. He claims that he's in love with her, and that he would treat her so much better than Grissom ever did, or would. So…"

Catherine leaned against the wall. "So to prove his love to Sara, he would kill the man who had hurt her the most?" she finished. Brass gave a grunt in reply. Brass knew, hell, _everyone_ knew that Grissom had hurt Sara, more than once and on a multitude of levels, except maybe for Grissom. "But why would he want to kill Sara if he loved her?"

Again, Brass grunted. "I don't know. That part gets a bit fuzzy. His story kind of went in circles at that point. I think it was something to do with the fact that Sara didn't love him back, so because she didn't love him, she couldn't love anyone. And that would only work if she was dead, I suppose."

"But then why was he at Grissom's house?" Catherine wondered.

"Because he thought that they were a couple? Couples do usually spend time at each other's places," Brass suggested. "I don't really know, Catherine. But I _do_ know that this guy is sick." He sounded disgusted. "I think he might plead insanity to stabbing Grissom."

"Okay, do you think we should tell Sara about this?" Catherine asked.

"I don't know. Tell Sara that the reason Grissom was almost killed was because of her? I don't think so. She's already way too emotional with him – on a professional level. Personally, I don't care. This might push her over the edge, though," Brass reasoned.

"Yes, her emotional value in Grissom is high, but we need to tell him, and he'll end up telling her eventually anyway. And then she'll be pissed that _we_ didn't tell her."

"Well, I guess we probably should tell her, shouldn't we?" Brass asked.

Catherine hear him pause. "What?" she asked. Brass stayed quiet. Realizing what he wanted, she sighed. "I take it that you want me to be the bearer of bad news?"

"Yes please," Brass answered. "Sooner rather than later. By the way, how is he?"

"He's doing well, I think. He pulled through surgery, and is resting now. Sara, Greg, Warrick, and Nick are all with him. And I was, until you called."

"Good. He's a fighter… wouldn't go down without a fight."

Catherine let a small smile cross her face. "Yeah, he is. So you think that I should tell Sara now?" She stood up straight against the wall.

"Now would be best," Brass answered.

"Alright. I'll call you if there's any change in anything." Catherine hung up and walked the short distance of hallway to Grissom's room. Opening the door, she stuck her head in. "Sara? Can we talk?"

Sara glanced up from Grissom's bed, looking obviously reluctant to leave his side. Nick and Greg came around the bed and started to ease her out of her chair. Warrick leaned in towards Catherine. "Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yes," Catherine lied. "Just some girl talk."

"Now?" Warrick raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Yes," Catherine repeated, her voice now laced with authority. "Sara? Come outside with me?" Sara nodded weakly and followed Catherine out the door. Outside, Catherine led Sara to a nearby bench in the hall. "You need to sit, Sara. Brass called, and he knows what happened to Grissom."

Sara lifted her head in amazement. "That was fast."

Catherine nodded. "We work fast when it's one of us, and even faster when it's someone we care about on a personal level."

She sat down beside Sara, and could see the tension in her profile. "Sara, the man who stabbed Grissom is Jacob Somer. Now, what I also have to tell you is not a good thing, but I want you to handle it properly, and professionally." Sara looked extremely nervous now, but nodded anyway. "Okay. Somer has been arrested in the stabbing of Grissom, and is locked up at PD. He says that the reason he stabbed Gil was because of… you." She felt the intake of breath beside her, and then felt the heat radiating off of Sara's body as if she'd just turned into a boiler. _Which this piece of information might have,_ a voice in the back of Catherine's head said. Plowing ahead, Catherine continued. "He says that he's in love with you, and that Gil was in the way. But you don't love him back, so he tried to kill you."

"I wasn't at Grissom's house," Sara pointed out quietly.

"He thought that you and Grissom were together, like as in a couple way… so he tried to find you at his house." Sara sat with a shocked look on her face. "Sara, I'm sorry. But I need to know… did you have any sort of relationship with Jacob Somer?"

Her face hardened, but she didn't miss a beat. "No. I've never met him. Or heard of him, until now."

Catherine, hating herself at the moment, pressed Sara. "Are you sure? I mean, you didn't even hesitate when you answered."

Sara whirled around to stare at her, her gaze fierce. "No, Catherine. I don't know him. And you know why I didn't hesitate? Because the second you mentioned his name, I went back in my brain, trying to find a connection, somewhere, from something. And you know what? There isn't one. I am a CSI too, you know."

Catherine's face softened. "I know, Sara. I'm sorry. I was only doing my job. I know you wouldn't take this lightly."

"Cath," Sara began quietly, the fierceness in her eyes gone, only to be replaced with a pain and fear that even tugged at Catherine's heart. "How could – how did this happen?"

She put a hand on Sara's shoulder – a move that surprised them both. "I don't know, Sara. But it's okay now. We've the guy, and both you and Grissom are alright."

Greg came running down the hall, shattering the rare quiet moment that the two women were sharing. "He's awake! He woke up! And Sara, he's asking for you!" Both women stood and bolted down the hallway, leaving Greg behind. When they reached the room, Nick and Warrick were helping Grissom sit up straight in his bed.

Catherine ran straight to the side of the bed and gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. "Gil! You're okay!" she exclaimed happily.

"Sara?" he asked, still a bit groggy from the surgery drugs.

"Nope, Catherine," she told him gently. "Sara's over here." She went to pull Sara to her side of the bed. "He wants you," she told her quietly, a knowing smile crossing her lips.

Sara glared at her, but allowed herself to be pulled over to the side of the bed. "Hey Griss," she said softly, leaning against the side. "How are you feeling?"

Catherine saw her friend's face light up at the sound of Sara's voice, and she knew what she had to do; give them some private time. She turned to the three men behind her. "Boys? Why don't we give these two some privacy?"

Nick started to argue, but was cut off by Sara. "No, no. You don't need to leave. Stay here. I'm sure Griss wants to see all of us." The truth was, Sara and Grissom hadn't been alone together for a very long time, and she wasn't quite sure as to what would happen. She couldn't trust herself with him anymore; she had no idea of what she would do. But with Grissom in a state like his, nothing would happen anyway. Right?

Grissom's soft voice brought her back to reality, and she realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach that they were in fact alone. "Sara? Are you okay?" he asked quietly, concern evident all over his face. "You don't look so good."

Sara sighed. _Why_ did he have to be so goddamned caring? Every time she pulled away, he would do or say something to reel her back in. It drove her completely insane. "I'm fine. Just been a long night, that's all." She fought back a yawn, not wanting to show that his concern was rightfully administered. "How are you feeling?" she asked again, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from herself.

Grissom, evidently, had other plans. "You haven't been up all night, have you?" She didn't answer. "Oh no, Sara, I feel horrible. Why did you stay up all night?"

Sara clenched her teeth. He just didn't get how much she cared about him. "I stayed up all night, Grissom, because I care about you. And I've been at the hospital all night as well."

He looked stunned. "Why?"

She felt that if she clenched her teeth any harder, they would start to grind and wear away. "It's not like you getting _stabbed_ woke me up. I was already up and showered when Brass called." Sara pulled over a chair and sat down.

Grissom pushed all thoughts of Sara and showers from his mind, telling himself that that was a fantasy better experienced when the star of it wasn't present. Instead, he focused on their conversation. "What time were you called at?" he asked.

Sara shrugged. "I don't know. Six-thirty, maybe? Why?"

"Because I want to know what you were doing up that early." She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.

"I woke up at around six. Usually I don't get up until seven, but something woke me up."

Grissom sat up a bit straighter, attempting to get a better look at Sara. "And that something was…?" he asked.

"A nightmare."

"Care to elaborate on that?" he asked, concern spreading on his face.

"Not really, no." Sara shook her head for effect.

"Sara." He reached for her hand. Finding it, he looked back up at her face. "Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help."

 _Only if you can come out of your shell and admit how you feel,_ she thought bitterly. Aware of his hand holding hers, she looked back up. "Okay, fine."

Outside of Grissom's hospital room and down the hall, Catherine stood in front of three shocked coworkers and the cop who was the bearer of bad news this time around. Warrick looked from Catherine to Brass and back again. "How could this of happened?" he managed to choke out.

Brass stepped forward. "We don't have all the details yet, it's why I was late. We're still trying to figure out what the hell happened."

Nick and Greg sat speechless. Catherine, who wasn't as worried about Nick as she was Greg, sat down between the two men. "Hey," she said gently, putting a hand on Greg's arm. "Are you okay?"

Greg swallowed and looked up at Catherine, who was momentarily frightened by the depth of emotion within his eyes. "Who would do this? Who would want to hurt Sara… or Grissom… or… or any of us?"

Catherine rubbed his arm. She knew that this was going to hit both Nick and Greg very hard. They were both close to Sara, especially Greg. Greg was the youngest CSI, and the newest. Having experience in the field, but not as much as the others, she knew that this was going to be hard to wrap his mind around. Almost losing both Sara _and_ Grissom at once was going to affect him for a long time. Just like when Holly died, none of them could sleep for weeks. "Greg, it's alright, you know. They're both safe and sound. They're both okay, both going to live," Catherine said, trying to reassure.

Greg could only nod in recognition.

 **OoOoOoOoO**

Grissom could see that Sara was leaving out details of her nightmare. He could also see the tears welling up in her eyes, and how hard she was trying to hold them back. So far, all she'd told him was that she'd been having nightmares; which were common for someone in their line of work. But these recent ones, they'd been starring her friends and coworkers, instead of the victims. The one she'd had the night before wasn't awful enough to be remembered, but it had been enough to wake her up. She couldn't remember who had been hurt, or by what. At least, that was what she told him. He was getting tired of her dancing around the subject. He wanted a straight answer out of her, which was odd. It was usually the other way around; him dancing around subjects and her giving the straight answers. "Sara. Could you please just tell me exactly what happened?" he said, more loudly than he'd meant to.

At first, she looked hurt, but then that changed into a pissed-off look. Pulling her hand away, she snapped, "Well I'm sorry, Grissom, if my story-telling skills aren't what they should be, or not good enough for you, just like the rest of me."

Grissom sat taken aback. _Where the hell did that come from? All I asked for was a straight answer…_ "Sara? What are you talking about? All I want to know is what happened in your nightmare." She saw the hurt in his eyes, masked by the fact that he'd brushed it off, and she felt instantly guilty. The words had tumbled out, before they could be filtered through the logical part of her brain. She wouldn't let him see what power he held over her heart; their relationship would go downhill faster than it already was if he knew. "Sara? Your nightmare?" he persisted.

She looked pissed off again. "Fine. You really want to know what happened?"

"Yes."

"Alright. In my nightmare, you were shot in your townhouse, and everyone was there but me. When I finally arrived, you were already gone."

Grissom finally understood, and he struggled severely to keep himself from reaching across the bed to gather Sara into his arms and never let her go. His heart ached at the sight of the fear in her face. Allowing himself the small pleasure of touching her, he reached for her hand again. She didn't pull away. "So when you got the call last night…"

"I thought it was my nightmare come true. When I got there, you looked exactly the same as in my nightmare. But you weren't dead. So I thought that… I thought that if I stayed… with you, you – wouldn't die."

Grissom couldn't take it anymore. He needed to hold her, to touch her, to tell her that everything would be alright, and that they were safe; needed to tell her that he would protect her, and be there when the nightmares got to hard to handle alone. He wanted to tell her everything. As soon as possible. Sara's tears spilled down her cheeks, and onto Grissom's hands. He reached over to pull her onto the bed beside him when Catherine stuck her head in the door.

"Gil? We're leaving. Some of us have work to do later." She grinned at him. "We want to wrap up this case, ASAP."

Turning to the brunette, she asked, "Sara, are you coming with us? Someone could give you a ride home, if you like."

Sara looked from Catherine to Grissom and then to her and Grissom's entwined hands, hidden from Catherine's view. "Uhh, no thanks, Cath. I'm going to stay here for a while."

Catherine smirked at Grissom. "Gil… _do not_ keep her up for a long time. She hasn't slept for hours."

"I won't Catherine. Goodnight." Grissom waved her away. He turned his attention back to Sara, who was hastily wiping the tears away. He caught her hands within his again, and gently guided her onto the narrow hospital bed beside him.

She looked equally surprised and happy at his sudden actions, but she said, "Grissom, there isn't enough room for me. I'm going to fall off!"

His one uninjured arm slid around her waist. "No you won't. I've got you," he whispered.

Sara nodded slowly before turning her face into his chest. "I thought I'd lost you forever, Griss," she said quietly. The moisture from her eyes was seeping through the thin material of his nightgown, and chilling his skin, but she didn't care, and neither did he. "You don't know what it felt like," she continued in between small and controlled sobs. "Please don't ever do that to me again. I don't think I could handle that."

Grissom pulled her closer. "I won't leave you Sara. Ever."

She pulled her head up, her face plastered with more emotions than he could count. Among them though, were hope, fear, and confusion. "You really mean that?" she asked skeptically.

"Absolutely."

With that small promise etched into her heart, Sara let the much needed sleep take over, allowing herself to dream of what awaited her when she woke.

* * *

 **-end-**


End file.
